


We Need To Talk About Kevin

by FalseProphet (Batmanthegroomer)



Category: Welcome to Night Vale
Genre: M/M, Oral Sex, Post-Strex Kevin, Religious Rituals, Strexcorp, Trans Kevin, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, no apologies to the Catholic Church, religious talk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-31
Updated: 2021-01-31
Packaged: 2021-03-18 06:55:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,396
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29114133
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Batmanthegroomer/pseuds/FalseProphet
Summary: There is more to Charles than meets the eye--after all he's a theologist and he's dating Kevin. After deciding to appoint Lauren Mallard as his assistant at the Community College, Charles begins to explore darker aspects of his relationship with Kevin. Mutual darkness, of course.(Mostly an excuse to write religious centric porn with some head canons for Charles, Desert Bluffs Too, Lauren and Kevin sprinkled in of course.)
Relationships: Charles/Kevin (Welcome to Night Vale)
Kudos: 12





	1. Chapter 1

“Kevin has been, distant recently,” Charles said in a sigh, adjusting his glasses as he attempted again to read a poorly written essay.

“Sad,” Lauren purred, unbothered from the doorway, “fuck him.” She tilted her head almost dangerously to one side in a snap.  
Charles glanced up.

“Hmm, I will take that into consideration,” Charles folded his hands on his desk and glanced up at Lauren. She smiled widely at him, the same way Kevin did when he was forced to do something he didn’t want to—by showing as many teeth as physically possible. It could hardly be called a smile, honestly, more like some kind of wild snarl.

Charles had been adjusting to life in Desert Bluffs Too well and quite quickly. He’d been hired at the community college nearly immediately and almost as immediately he’d been promoted. He refused to accept a position of Dean—in spite the board’s insistence and then in spite Kevin’s insistence he had not threatened the board to make such an offer—but did permit them to elevate him which came with a few perks. First and foremost was that he was permitted to hire an assistant and, well, he had just the person in mind. 

Keeping Lauren Mallard close had started as a necessity—Kevin had mentioned once that he wouldn’t be surprised if Lauren tried to kill Charles to get back at Kevin for one thing or another—and had now become something of a hobby. She and Kevin were as alike as they were different and Charles used the excuse to push her in ways he would not dare push Kevin. Nothing nefarious of course, nothing too malevolent, but when he had questions Kevin would not answer he found he could pry Lauren with them without as much guilt.

“I’m sorry, you wanted something?” Charles said after a second, removing his reading glasses and smiling with sweetness at Lauren. Her smile shrunk a little until it was a sarcastic mirror of his own. It looked strange and alien against the rough frown tattoo on her lips.

“You have a phone call from the elementary school,” Lauren said slowly.

Charles could not withhold the slight shock at her announcement. He didn’t like that she’d gotten through to him but he’d have to deal with that later. He reached for his phone and waved her away. She gave him a large, sweeping bow and backed out of the door with her eyes on the carpet.

“This is Char—” the professor started into the receiver before he was immediately on alert. He could hear shouting in the background, shouting over the very easily identifiable crying of his son. He stood and knocked his chair back noisily in the process.

“Mr—” the voice on the other end of the line was interrupted by a particularly loud wail from Donovan. “Uh—we—there was a small accident. Everyone is ok!” the voice rose in panic, “b-but we’re going to need you to—” another interruption, this time the screaming was from whatever other adult was in the room, “come get your son.”

“Shit, yes. On my way!” Charles nearly dropped the receiver, grabbing his car keys and sweater in one swipe. He stumbled through the doorway as he wiggled his arms into his sweater.

“I need to pick up Donovan, Lauren. I’m—not sure I’ll make it back today so just—take messages.”

“Oh, no,” Lauren said as long and as falsely as she could manage, “I hope everything is just peachy.” She did not even look up from her magazine, Knives for Wives.

“You’re not qualified to read that magazine, Ms.Mallard,” Charles managed bitingly as he stepped out.

~*~

“Is everything all right with Donovan?” Kevin pressed awkwardly as he and Charles retired to Charles’ bedroom. The radio host closed the door quietly behind them, cocking his head to the side as Charles sat heavily on the edge of the bed.

“Did he seem not all right?” Charles asked softly, watching Kevin with adoring scrutiny. Since overcoming the initial hurdle of, well, Donovan, Charles had enjoyed seeing the strides and lengths Kevin went to in order to try and adapt. Charles knew it must have been hard for Kevin but the theologist did enjoy trying to follow Kevin’s line of thought when it came to his son.

“He seemed…” Kevin paused, tapping his chin as he searched for the word, “not happy.”

“You’ll have to be more specific,” Charles smiled as Kevin sagged his shoulders in an exaggerated effort.

“Barely restrained,” Kevin offered after a moment of silence, “like a beast in a poorly constructed muzzle.”

Charles lifted an eyebrow and began to remove his clothing. He heard a little trill of giggles from Kevin.

“Very astute,” the professor said proudly, “you see? He’s easy to read.”

“I’m learning,” Kevin pronounced, puffing out his chest as he knelt on the bed next to Charles. “What caused it?”

“A little incident at school,” Charles stood and unbuckled his pants, stripping to his boxers. “One of the other children repeated some anti-Smiling God rhetoric, likely from their parents, and it upset Donovan. He hears how dedicated you are and said it was angry to hear the other boy.”

“How—interesting,” Kevin said, smiling widely.

“I am told that after a little argument on the matter that Donovan told the other boy if the Smiling God did not eat him that he would.”

“How delightful!” Kevin chirped, his voice failing a little as Charles shook his head.

“Donovan needs to learn ways other than threatening people to handle his problems, Kevin.”

“He-he does,” Kevin said haltingly, half agreeing and half confirming this for himself, “perhaps we can sign him up for a debate team?” 

“I think he’s a little young for that,” Charles laughed, lying on his stomach on the bed. He propped his chin up on his arms as he felt Kevin straddle him, rubbing his hands together to warm them up.

“Is he?” Kevin mused, “it’s been so long since I was a child!” The Voice of Desert Bluffs (Too) eagerly began working his fingers into the bare of Charles’ back. He rolled his thumb over taunt muscles and sore flesh.

“I’m really proud of you,” Charles groaned, “with him. With everything but I mean—mostly, right now—with him.”

“He means a lot to you,” Kevin answered truthfully, “it is, I admit, tough to navigate but I am eager and dedicated, if nothing else.” 

“You never wanted children?”

“I—you know, I’m not sure,” Kevin began slowly squeezing his thumbs on either side of Charles’ spine. “Certainly not since St-Strex, and before that well,” Kevin filled in the silence with a short burst of laughter. “Did you?”

“Honestly, no, but now I can’t imagine my life any other way,” Charles’ voice was low as he grit his teeth against Kevin’s digging fingers. “I had planned to just—uhn—travel and study—haah—alone.”

“Mmmm,” Kevin purred, tilting his head back, “your theology work is so fascinating to me.” It was a line Kevin had repeated numerous times since meeting Charles and it was always sincere though admittedly the first time in had been sincerely a ploy to get Charles into bed. As someone deeply invested in religion, all of Charles’ input and experience was thrilling to Kevin. It was almost tantalizing, to have a window into what other faiths were doing or had done… not that Kevin was searching for ideas, no, his dreams and visions gave him plenty to work with. He simply liked knowing for the sake of knowing.

“I agree,” sighed Charles.

“Tell me about more rituals,” Kevin pleaded, easing up his hands into a light press and roll, “please.”

“Hmm, have I told you about Catholic Confession?” Charles glanced—to the best of his ability—over his shoulder at Kevin.

“No-ho,” Kevin mewled, arching his eyebrows in sudden intrigue, “that sounds fun!”

“The Catholics have a very, very long list of sins,” Charles began, making small gestures as much as he could in his position, “and so it’s not surprising that many of their faith sin constantly. This brings up a unique problem as they feel you cannot ascend to their afterlife if you’re a sinner. So, what they have done is they have granted their priests the ability to absolve sinners of their sin.”

“Interesting,” Kevin said, sliding his way up to Charles’ shoulder blades. “Is it violent?”

“No, surprisingly not given everything else about Catholicism,” Charles chuckled as he heard Kevin pout. “The sinner will seek out the priest to confess their sins. They do this in a little box to obscure their view of one another but honestly I don’t think it’s really meant to fool anyone. It’s just part of the ritual.”

“They just… talk?” Kevin continued, still sounding a little disappointed.

“Oh yes, but it’s very scripted and must be done in very strict ways,” Charles clarified, holding up a finger. 

“Is there punishment for deviating from the script?” 

“I am sure there must be, at the very least you won’t be forgiven.”

“How does it go?” Kevin wrapped his hands around the back of Charles’ neck, fingers vanishing under the man’s long, dark hair.

“Ah, well, mmm,” Charles shifted under Kevin for a second, knowing it was not just the feeling of hands on his bare body that made him a little hot under the collar. He was unaware that Kevin took note of the movement, training his head to one side curiously and paying rapt attention.

“The sinner usually begins with, ‘Forgive me Father, for I have sinned.’ Then they recall how long it has been since they last completed this ritual.”

“It isn’t mandatory?”

“For those serious in the faith it absolutely is but it’s more mandatory on the honor code than on any actual schedule. Some Catholics I met went to confession nearly every week while others claimed to go maybe once or twice a year. It also depends on how aware they are of their sins, I imagine.”

“What’s next?” Kevin urged, leaning down to press a soft kiss at the base of Charles’ neck.

“The sinner will then confess all their sins since their last Confession ritual. The Priest sometimes asks for more details, or tries to get the sinner to confess what led them to the sin so that they may see and confess to other sins—”

“The more sins the better?”

“Oh absolutely. That’s all the religion is at its core—Sinning and sinning again,” Charles closed his eyes and barely contained a roll of his hips against the mattress as Kevin continued a trail of kisses down his back. 

“Go on,” Kevin urged.

“The priest will then give the sinner a task or two that they must complete in order to have their sins forgiven.”

“Manual labor?” Purred Kevin, voice slightly distorted as his lips remained pressed against the small of Charles’ back.

“Usually monotonous chanting,” Charles admitted with a bit of a sigh himself, “more modern Catholicism has really toned it down in matters of forgiveness. They used to self flagellate.” 

Kevin let out a quiet chirrup of joy at this, bouncing lightly atop Charles. The Voice widened his stance to let Charles roll over onto his back. The professor reached up and took hold of Kevin’s hips, pulling the slightly taller man down into his lap. Charles smirked a little and rutted his erection against Kevin’s crotch.

“Can you be quick? I have an early morning,” Charles lifted one eyebrow, watching as Kevin coyly tilted his head.

“Tell me more about flagellation,” the Voice said deeply.


	2. Chapter 2

“So much of this same rhetoric,” Charles mused aloud mostly to himself but also loud enough that Lauren would be able to hear him, “all regurgitated. No substance. Why are the people so reticent to separate the Smiling God from StrexCorp? Did StrexCorp change that much about the way you worshipped?” Charles asked louder, glancing up at the doorway.

There was a loud sigh and then the deliberately shrill sound of a chair scraping backwards against the floor. Lauren sauntered into the doorway, closing the door behind her and flopping down with a grunt into the chair across from Charles.

“StrexCorp changed everything about Desert Bluffs, Charles. That includes their religion.”

“Hmm, I forgot—you aren’t a Desert Bluffs native,” Charles clicked his tongue as if disapproving of Lauren suddenly.

“Correct. I am from—well, somewhere else I’m sure. All I can remember is Strex; they were like my family.”

“That does explain a lot.” Charles leaned back in his chair, folding his hands to steeple his fingers at his chin. “Why not crush the Church in Desert Bluffs? Why assimilate it?”

“Why not? It made things easier to grab on to,” Lauren shrugged. “In spite ou—their brutal methods, Strex much preferred it when people went willingly. They could devote more resources and energy to better things that way. It takes so long to break someone down and build them back up, its easier to just mold them.” Lauren made a fist and smashed it into the palm of her other hand.

“Go on,” Charles encouraged.

“Much like Nightvale and those insufferable Bloodstone Circles, Desert Bluffs had a long history with this Smiling God. Strex used that to its advantage. Rather than try and crush a religious uprising, they bought out the church and made it work for them. It’s a lot easier to change the sermon than stop the mass.”

“Hmm, much like Christianity and the Pagans, I see. It does make sense in a nefarious way.”

“I don’t know what any of that means,” Lauren said with a sick smile. “Strex used the Smiling God to further their own efforts. They integrated the religious doctrine into their strategy and really I think that’s what turned the tide for us in Desert Bluffs.”

“You think Strex would have failed if they had tried to wipe out the Joyous Congregation?”

“I’m hesitant to admit but yes. I do think it would have made things much, much harder. The church was very powerful and Kevin had everyone’s ear through the radio and his own little religious groups. He wasn’t nearly the… Prophet,” Lauren said the word as if it brought bile into her mouth, “that he is today but he was well on his way. Chosen, they used to say.”

“Has he kept Strex’s changes here?” Charles pressed, pulling out a small notebook from one of his desk drawers and quickly scribbling a couple notes. Lauren attempted briefly to see if she could sneak a look but gave up and moved to sit side-ways in the chair, lounging like she was talking with her therapist.

“Here’s the thing about trauma,” Lauren began with a heavy sigh, like she was really putting herself out to do Charles a big favor, “it really messes with your memory. Even more when the trauma itself is messing with your memory. I’m not sure if Kevin is or isn’t keeping the changes and, here’s the kicker; neither is he—because he doesn’t remember. None of them do. Not even me and I was in upper management with a hand in implementing the changes! I couldn’t tell you what was Strex and what was ancient. I don’t even remember if they actually called it the Smiling God before Strex or not. The merge was so complete and relentless.”

“Hmm, I guess he does face a hurdle there, doesn’t he,” Charles paused to scribble a couple more quick notes. “It will be hard to regain the trust of folks when no one is sure if he’s still teaching Strex’s words.”

“Bingo!” Lauren said with sarcastic applause. “He’s got plenty of support though; he was well liked. The Voice of a community can be… difficult to contain.”

“How many communities did Strex take over?” Charles closed his little book and slid it away. 

“I have no earthly idea,” Lauren purred, “I can recall at least two before Desert Bluffs.”

“Did they adopt those religions too?”

“Oh no; no, not by a long shot,” Lauren grinned wide, “there is just something about this Smiling God…”

“Or maybe there’s something about Kevin?” Charles said with a smile himself. Lauren’s expression faltered.

“Could be,” she attempted to recover, “who’s to say?” 

“Thank you Lauren, that was enlightening,” Charles said dismissively, placing his reading glasses back on and returning to his papers. He took note that Lauren did not move for a few moments, watching him though he kept his gaze averted. He wasn’t sure what she was waiting for but he was done with her for the time being and so he did not offer her acknowledgement. After another few seconds of silence she stood and retreated to her desk.

He wasn’t very far into his work before his cellphone chimed happily from his pocket. He finished reading a dismal paragraph and checked the notification: A text from Kevin.

‘Good morning, Professor! ::desk emoji:: ::apple emoji:: Are we working hard?’

‘Of course—it takes all the strength in me to get through these essays.’

‘Oooh, that is dreadful. Well, I might be able to cheer you up! ::painful smiling emoji:: ::winking centipede emoji::’

‘You always cheer me up, sunshine.’

‘I am planning a surprise for you… :: dynamite emoji:: :: sun blowing up and dooming the world emoji::’

Charles was about to answer when Kevin sent a picture. The theologist glanced to the door before opening it, knowing Kevin it was not going to be a workplace appropriate picture. As Charles opened the image he had to give some credit to his boyfriend—it was not fully nude.

It was clearly taken at the radio station though how Kevin managed to get the angle was beyond Charles. It was from over Kevin’s shoulder, peering down under the desk to show the short skirt Kevin had worn that day; a skirt that was hiked up quite high on his left thigh. The scarred flesh was dressed in thigh-high stockings and the garter belt and straps were just barely visible from under the rumple of fabric. Kevin was coyly speaking into the mic, not even glancing at the camera.

‘I have arranged a sleep over with Donovan as the demons have been asking about him.’

‘Your house or mine?’ Charles responded, shifting a little in his seat.

‘Neither. Meet me at the Temple of Joy. It’s been… reserved for a private party. ::anatomical heart emoji:: ::bleeding kidney emoji:: ::eggplant emoji::’

~*~

Charles pulled into the temple parking lot and was not surprised to find it empty. Kevin lived quite literally next door and had likely walked over after he came home from the station. 

His pulse was rather rapid as he turned off his car and stuffed the keys into his pocket. Kevin had continued to tease the rest of the day, sending a few more pictures but mostly just leading texts like: 

‘Don’t over-exert yourself,’ 

And 

‘Drink plenty of water.’

Charles had no idea what Kevin had planned exactly but he knew the Voice of Desert Bluffs (Too) never did anything half-way. Whatever set up was waiting for the theologist in the church it would be elaborate and intricate. It was one of the things Charles admired most about Kevin—he was always all in. Though in this situation all that Charles really needed was Kevin; Sex in a church was enough of a turn on and the professor knew that Kevin was well aware of the fact.

Charles walked confidently up to the front double doors of the church. They were a bone ivory with intricate carvings of a huge centipede laced throughout. Wrapped in the coils of the bug were buildings, people and animals. Charles reached up, unable to help himself, and traced some of the coils with a few fingers. A tingle ran through him and he smiled, moving to open the door—only to find it was locked. 

He lifted his hand to knock and then paused: he did have the key to the office entrance. Kevin knew he was coming so he wouldn’t have locked the doors on purpose. Charles jogged back down the front stairs and moved around to the side entrance, fishing his keys out of his pocket. He unlocked the door and stepped inside quietly, not sure why but feeling like quiet was the way to go. 

As he stepped into the familiar halls he got the distinct feeling of being funneled in a specific direction. The Temple was large—not quite as large as some other temples he had seen but definitely larger than a small community church had any need to be—and there were dozens upon dozens of rooms. Had Charles walked in through the front doors he would have faced a myriad of directional options but coming in through the side entry it was easy to follow the closed doors in a path towards one of the smaller congregation halls.

The room was usually held for low-attendance regular day sermons. It was much more intimate than the main hall but still just as hallowed and adorned with various religious paraphernalia. Imagery and iconography that was slowly changing the scape of Charles’ dreams hung around him. He smiled in appreciation as he strolled down the main isle to the pulpit.

When Kevin moved from center stage Charles felt his heart stop and his steps faltered. He had through Kevin was a statue, some new piece of artwork commissioned to honor the Smiling God. The Voice of Desert Bluffs (Too) was completely enshrouded aside from his hands. A long gold and white robe draped over Kevin’s form, tapered at the waist and pointed at the shoulders. A low V-neck gave a glimpse of bare flesh before meeting a deep bronzed collar that sat stiffly atop Kevin’s collarbone and extended upwards. The Prophet wore a sweeping yellow hat with a curtain of gold that was somehow walking a thin line between opaque and transparent. Charles could see the outline of Kevin’s face when the light hit just right but expression and fine details were totally obscured. Kevin approached Charles slowly from the stage, shoeless feet padding gently on the carpet.

“Welcome, my child,” Kevin spoke after giving Charles another moment to catch his breath, “you have come for Confession?”

Charles just about lost his mind, staring blankly as Kevin held open his hands in supplication. He knew he had not been completely shy about expressing his feelings towards religious rituals the previous night but the fact that Kevin had taken such initiative was astounding. Charles had partners in the past who had indulged in his various kinks—and vice versa—but nothing came close to this.

Charles rather clumsily moved to his knees in front of Kevin, still coming down from the shock of it all. He clasped his hands together and looked up at Kevin.

“F-forgive me Father, for I have sinned,” Charles began. The wave of embarrassment was fleeting and the words came quickly and without struggle. Charles was unsure if it was Kevin’s doing or if he was much more into this than he had previously realized. 

“It has been quite some time since my last confession,” Charles breathed as Kevin reached down and placed a hand over his own.

“Unburden yourself,” Kevin whispered, staring down at Charles through the golden veil. 

“I have,” Charles swallowed, “lusted, Father. Deeply, carnally.”

“Is the object of your lust aware of your… temptations?”

“No, Father. He is—a man of the cloth.” Charles felt his breath hitch as Kevin made a small ‘tsk’ sound, reaching with his free hand to stroke Charles’ hair.

“Sins of the flesh are among the most treacherous,” Kevin mused, “have you resisted acting upon these… urges?”

“Y-yes, Father,” Charles closed his eyes and leaned into Kevin’s hand as it was brought down to cup Charles’ cheek.

“Are you lying to me?” Kevin said, his voice dropping into a dangerous tone as he pinched Charles’ chin and tilted his head up further. “Have you imagined what it would be like to know this man?”

“Y-yes…”

“Have you imagined how you would take him?”

“Y-yes…”

“Have you touched yourself at the thought of consummating your lust?”

“Holy shit,” Charles whispered, unable to stop himself, “Y-yes, Father. Yes.”

“This sin is heavy upon you,” Kevin said, releasing Charles’ chin and walking away. Charles took a second to catch his breath, grinning wildly in the interim. He managed to calm himself as Kevin approached the pulpit and turned. The Prophet pointed behind the pulpit sharply.

“Come, kneel at my feet while I read from the book,” Kevin commanded. He watched with half-lidded eyes as Charles complied, loosening his sweater as he did so. Kevin smirked behind the veil, enjoying this far more than he had imagined he would. As Charles came to kneel, facing Kevin with his back to the pulpit, Kevin felt a throbbing between his legs and he breathed out shakily. His own arousal dripping down his thighs to match the unmistakable tent in Charles’ pants.

“As I pray for your soul,” Kevin began, moving to stand in front of Charles, “you may devour the holy flesh, to begin your contrition.” Kevin braced himself on the pulpit and lifted his right leg, easily slipping the prosthetic limb over Charles’ shoulder. He kept his eyes downcast as Charles slipped under the robes, sliding his hands slowly up the back of Kevin’s thighs.

Charles drew a line of shaking kisses up Kevin’s leg, adrenaline coursing through him in time with arousal and making him tremble. He could feel the heat between Kevin’s legs and bit back a moan to discover the undergarments his lover wore were crotchless. Charles braced himself, cupping his hands under Kevin’s buttock, and leaned forward to plant a final, almost chaste kiss to the other man’s hip. 

“Oh Smiling God,” Kevin began, voice only slightly heady as he felt Charles’ tongue slide through the slick of his lips. “Look upon your lost child with forgiveness,” Kevin continued, rolling his hips against Charles’ tongue. “He c-craves, he thirsts f-for that which is,” Kevin gasped and gripped the pulpit with white knuckles, “denied to him!” His voice rose in pitch as Charles pinned his tongue to the length of Kevin’s cock and slid two fingers easily into him.

Charles curled and lapped his tongue eagerly against Kevin, letting the other man grind against his mouth. He curled the fingers inside Kevin and slowly stroked them in and out, facing little resistance from his eager partner. Knowing that Kevin was just as turned on as he was only furthered his own state of arousal. He squirmed but did not dare move to touch himself, permitting only brief ruts against the inside of his pants.

“He is but mortal,” Kevin said with a deep sigh, eyes slipping closed, “he is t-tempted by-by the flesh and h-he—ooh—he yearns to,” Kevin bit his bottom lip and tipped forward, digging his nails into the wood of the pulpit and leaving half-moon scars. “He yearns t-to atone a-and b-be-be—fuck—Forgiven!” Kevin shouted, nearly collapsing onto the pulpit as he came, still rolling his hips along Charles’ eager and talented tongue. 

Charles slowly withdrew his fingers, moving both hands to brace Kevin as the Voice slowly rode his high. Charles was panting heavily, body quaking with need as he let Kevin collect himself. He let his hands fall away from Kevin as the Prophet stepped shakily back from the pulpit, pulling the robe slowly off of Charles as Kevin backed himself up against the long table at the back of the stage. 

Kevin was still trying to catch his breath as he rested the small of his back against the table. He reached up and pulled off his veil, revealing the intricate gold make-up he had donned. His cheeks were flush and his smile was trembling, a small trickle of blood dripping down his chin to mingle with the gold paint from where he’d bit his lip far too hard. He dropped his gaze to Charles, kneeling and breathing heavily, facial hair shiny with moisture.

“Take me and be purified,” Kevin declared, voice much, much deeper than his usual light and airy tone. 

Charles had never needed to get out of his pants so quickly.

The professor stood with some effort and unbuckled his pants, shucking them off in one quick motion as he rushed to meet Kevin. He crushed their lips together, feeling the blood and gold lipstick smearing against his face as he did so. He returned his hands to Kevin’s thighs and hoisted him up onto the table. They parted from their kiss as Kevin leaned back onto his elbows, spreading his legs provocatively.

Kevin let his head fall back and moaned as Charles moved between his legs. He felt the other man’s hands run up his stockings to the bare gap of skin before his hips. Kevin gasped as Charles forcefully grabbed his waist and pulled them together, thrusting himself inside with a dire need. Their groans mingled in the empty auditorium.

Charles dug his thumbs into the crook of Kevin’s hips, rolling himself forward. He sucked in breath greedily as he bottomed out and squeezed Kevin’s waist dangerously. He heard the other man almost purring and pulled back out, wet and noisy. He pushed back in and leaned forward to cover Kevin’s body with his own, bracing one hand on the table and while the other remained locked at Kevin’s hip.

The Prophet crooked his left leg around Charles and held him close, dropping from his elbows to lie flat on his back as he shifted and rocked against the—thankfully—sturdy table. Kevin was well prepared and eager but Charles was not being gentle and it was thrilling. He slowly slid his hands up Charles’ arms, gripping one to the other man’s shoulder tightly. The other he slid up to Charles’ face and pressed two fingers into his lover’s mouth where they were sucked on graciously.

Charles was so worked up he knew this was not going to be a marathon and he was not intent to try and make it last either. The build-up had been marvelous and now he was desperate and drunk with need. He picked up speed, listening as the table under them rocked and Kevin began compulsively hiccupping air with each re-entry. Charles felt his breath leave him and he could not find concern enough to draw air.

Kevin let out a long shout as Charles’ thrusts became even more desperate. He released the other man’s mouth and gripped the edge of the table above his head. He arched his back into Charles’ rhythm and felt his third eye slide open, golden pupil dancing back and forth to search out the source of such… passion.

Charles dropped his mouth to assault Kevin’s covered and stiffly braced neck, kissing and sucking at the collar messily. He pulled Kevin’s waist tighter against himself though knowing there was no further he could possibly push into the other man. He lifted his head as his breath returned to prepare for his climax. His eyes grew wide, pupils blown beyond normal proportions as he saw for the first time the eye upon Kevin’s forehead open and staring at him.

Charles’ climax was loud and Kevin could not hold back an accompanying cry. Kevin watched the blue hot heat pouring off Charles, the black glow deep in his stomach at the very core of him. He felt the other man’s heartbeat deep within himself, pulsing in time with a powerful orgasm. Kevin hummed. Kevin purred. His third eye closed and he collapsed onto the table with Charles doing the same above him.

A few moments were spent in silence, the air around them seeming to cling to the sounds of their coupling. Soon the air was filled with breathing as the men came down together, soft kisses popping like electricity as Charles pulled away and braced himself on the table. Kevin sat up slowly.

“K-kevin I—” Charles started, pausing to swallow and lick his lips. He brought his gaze up to the blackness of his lover’s eyes. “That was—Amazing.”

“I know,” Kevin sighed, placing a hand on his chest, “I am very good at sex.”


End file.
